


The Worst Unboxing Video Ever

by ComicBooksBro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel Bears the Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Castiel in the Ma'lak Box (Supernatural), Coda, Episode: s15e04 Atomic Monsters, Gen, M/M, Vampire Dean Winchester, no beta :) :) :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29785701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComicBooksBro/pseuds/ComicBooksBro
Summary: Dean needs to put Cas in the Ma’lak box, and it hurts more than it should.(Technically an Atomic Monsters coda.)
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The Worst Unboxing Video Ever

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I figured it was about time to post it, so here we are. I'm honestly low-key obsessed with MOC!Cas and that whole AU in Atomic Monsters in general, so you know I had to write this :3

“Dean?” Cas asked, his voice higher than Dean had ever heard it, and pleading,. The former angel was pleading, like he was scared and didn’t understand. But Dean knew better—Cas—the Cas that was laying in the Ma’lak box—arms crossed like a long buried Egyptian king—understood _exactly_ what was happening.

He had asked for it.

_(“Promise me Dean. You have to promise you’ll do what needs to be done when the mark gets out of control.”)_

Whatever was giving Dean those puppy-dog-eyes right now _wasn’t_ the angel he loved—not really. Cas hadn’t been himself in a long time. Too long a time for Dean to put this off any longer.

Dean grabbed the lid of the box and started to heave it over.

“Dean please!”

 _This is what he wanted,_ Dean told himself as the box slammed shut over Cas’ tear-filled eyes. _He asked—he told me to do this._

_(“We can get through this, Cas—you can get through it.”)_

The sound of rattling metal echoed in Dean’s ears and mixed with Cas’ bloodcurdling cries. Pain spiked in Dean’s chest, and it was the kind of pain that had nothing to do with the way Cas had fought tooth and nail as Dean shoved him into the box.

“Let me out! Let me out let me out _let me out!”_

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered as he slumped to the floor, resting his back against the cold metal of the Ma’lak box. He could feel Cas pounding on it, trying to escape. An image crept into Dean’s mind: Cas, bloody-knuckled, incased in darkness, alone and confused and _hurting—_

“He asked for this,” Dean said, out loud this time. “He _asked_ for it.” Tears streamed out of his dull green eyes as Cas continued to claw at the metal and scream.

_(“I won’t beat it. I can’t, and we both know it. I can only resist for so long and you need to promise—“)_

There was a whimper from inside the box.

_(“I’ll do it.”)_

Dean stayed there until Cas went silent.

***

Garth died.

Eileen died.

Sam died.

Dean killed Jody and Bobby.

The world kept spinning.

(But only barely).

***

Death.

It was all there was anymore: mindless violence and blood and _death._ It was tiring, yet, at the same time, Dean was in his natural element. He licked blood off his lips as he walked along the road to the bunker. He had stayed away from it since him and Sam had turned, but it was time to come home.

After all, there was someone waiting for him.

***

“Cas?” Dean asked, brushing the last of the loose dirt from the top of the box and pressing his hand to the cold metal. There was no reply, not even a rustle of fabric.

He wedged the tips of his fingers under the top of the box and tried to pry it off. His hands slipped and he split a nail, then cursed as blood welled up around the break. Something shifted beneath the sigil-welded metal and Dean pulled at the top of what should have been Cas’ eternal prison again, determined to open it. He could feel his nails threatening to rip from the root, but kept tugging until the dirt seal on the lid of the box cracked.

“Come on,” he grunted, adjusting his hold on the ridge of the top and throwing it upwards. The hinges shrieked as they swung and the hard sheet of metal clattered to the ground. Hesitantly, Dean looked into the shadowed box.

A beige lump rested at the bottom, unmoving.

 _Cas’ trench coat._

Dean reached forward and touched where he assumed Cas’ shoulder would be. It was cold. Cas had always run hot, even at the end, and Dean’s heart sank a little when he couldn’t feel his familiar warmth. _Had he…_

No. Cas couldn’t have died. He was an angel. He—

Dean gasped as a cold hand grabbed his wrist. Blue eyes stared out of the darkness, their pupils nearly invisible. Cas’ hand was cold and hard, like marble—inhuman and unfeeling.

Dean had never felt something so calming.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> <3


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